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 REDEMPTION. 209

From out the throne of God, exhaustless stream, And boundless sea of mercy, truth and love. Purer than Cedron's waters, on whose banks, The Saviour loved to wander, and at night, When Cynthia's placid beams his couch effused, Who had not elsewhere to repose his head, Would lay him down upon its bank to sleep ; Or Siloe, sacred pool, whose streamlet, Gently, and with noiseless flow, th' oracle Of God enlaved, and healing virtues free Bestow'd, when Ithiel's pinions fann'd its waves. Material these, and to surcease disposed, With local bounds, and partial to the race ; That, spiritual, laves the Maker's works Wide as the world, coterminous with air, With genial flow pervades diseased souls, And yields to all its health restoring balm. Its overpow'ring flow, Lucia now felt, Deep drank the precious stream, so freely oped, And briefly thus her wak'ning faith express'd:

" I know that the Messias comes, the Christ ; And when he comes, all things he will unfold."

Jesus that moment chose his truth to seal, And to the sinner thus himself reveals :

" I am the Christ, who now do speak with thee."

Prevenient grace, its soft'ning influence lent, Rain'd gently o'er, and fructified the seed, Congenial sown, in long time fallow soil. Moisten'd by streams from this celestial fount, The seed sprang up, and speedy bore its fruit, And ready whiten 'd stood, for harvest ripe.

Contrite before the Teacher, Lucia stands,

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